Monson Memorial STORY-- Sun. November 9

[Long entry -- long story; details of the run in the next entry]

The long awaited year ending big run, and the weather was worth waiting for. Mark called to say he couldn't make it, and Ivan said he'd meet us there, so it was just Ken and me in Ken's car off to Dunkin at 10. I'd had half a banana, and wondered about what else if anything to have; I got a coffee for the road, and we exchanged greetings with the small crew at D&D (Jay, Andy, Amy, and the young lad --Nick--from the BFC run on Sat.). Then we drove the 15 miles or so to Monson, and arrived before 11, found a nice parking spot and looked around. No hall this year (it was being used for a play, evidently), so there were a couple of tents set up across the road. We registered and waited to connect with Ivan. There were only three port-a-potties, not a good sign; the queue built up very quickly. Ivan arrived and we got kitted up and then headed to the D&D -- Ken wanted food and we all availed ourselves of the facilities (I knew I'd spend money there after the run). The place was packed, the town too, and everyone seemed set for a good time. The three of us took a short slow mile warmup, dodging crowds, and then got ready for the off. Lots of familiar faces, including the winner of the BFC (あっまり好ましくないやつ、下品で南ボストン出身みたい) and with him the orange-hatted Bill R from Snowstorms. They were talking doing 6:30s, so I stayed a bit behind them - my target was 6:50s, if I felt good.

The start was delayed by some problems with bib numbers. I got the feeling that not being in the hall had upset their normally very good operation, though everyone was pretty upbeat throughout. Finally got the off after 12:15, and away we went, a very fast crowd out front and a decent field (nearly three hundred) filling in all around. I took it easy but didn't want to lose too many places, then after the first two miles figured I'd go to work. I'd forgotten how hilly it is, but I was making good time. I wasn't pushing all the time, but on all the uphills, and constantly aiming for the cluster ahead. This kept a to and fro battle going with a couple of guys near me who were better on the downhill and flat.

By 8 miles I was on track: just over 54 minutes, which was my target. I'd even gained tow places as a girl and then a guy dived off into the bushes to take leaks. Just after that a beefy guy came up on me and I wondered if I was gong backwards, but then I figured he was picking it up a notch--a triathlete, probably. I knew I couldn't do that, but I tired to get a bit of a tow. The next two miles I still felt pretty comfortable, still able to push on the (now fewer) uphills, although as we came back out onto the main road I was starting to think hungry.

That rapidly became more than a thought. I was beginning to obsess, and a weird sort of lethargy was creeping up. Lungs and muscles felt good, but I was running out of fuel. I was into the eleventh mile when I had to admit it was really bad--I slowed right down, and muttered "need food" as people passed me with cheering words. No spectators, no sources of energy. This was the first such experience for me, and I was unprepared. I wondered if there were any plants I might eat, but pine trees and scrubby sandy grass was all that I could see next to the road. I felt light-headed, and then got really concerned I might fall down or faint completely, so I started walking. Jogged down hills, but walked the flats and uphills. Somehow made it without losing too much time, figuring that my PR was well gone but at least I'd finish as fast as I safely could.

Then just about three-quarters of a mile from the end, an apple tree--in fact several, outside a row of houses. Crab-apples? I didn't care: found one that looked more or less intact, about large egg size, polished off the dirt on my sleeve and bit into it frantically. Amazingly, it was sweet, a little past that even--energy, sort of, and with a few more bites I was ready to go on. I picked up speed gently and by the finish I was even able to put on a burst and finish as though I was fine.

I was not quite fine, of course, and I grabbed a banana and a cup of apple cider and sat a few minutes to let that enter my system. I was still a bit cold, but not faint, and I jogged back all the way to the apple trees to thank them and to see if there were any more of those special apples. As I started out, in came Ken looking very strong, so I cheered him on and went off thinking about Ivan. Found my apple trees and picked up a couple more apples, but no sign of Ivan. Ran back to the start, got some real food (pasta, hot dog, etc.) and met up with Ken --he'd beaten his previous best by more than a minute. We both ate and chatted, and I started worrying about Ivan. With two hours coming up on the clock, he must have had a problem.

Since runners were still coming in, I didn't want to disturb the time keepers to see if he'd come in and we'd somehow not seen him. Besides, I didn't know his bib number. As we'd been waiting and eating I had noticed the ambulance parked near the finish head back up the course, and now I saw it was back, and a couple of young Monson cops were standing nearby. Ken went up to one of them and explained we were looking for a friend. "Oh, they've got one runner in that ambulance. Ask the EMT what his name is." We did, and it was Ivan. He looked okay, but had indeed had a bad energy crash at mile 8, after eating his carried food at miles 5 and 7. The older EMT looked a bit worried still, but Ivan signed a waiver and we headed back to the car--it was chilly in the wind and I gave Ivan my jacket, as I already had other gear on. After Ivan got his stuff we headed to D&D and ordered up (the staff was very frazzled from the long day, so we nearly didn't get the 99c egg and cheese deal I'd been looking for. Coffee, donut and breakfast sandwich, and a warm place to sit. Ivan and I compared notes, and Ken felt generally good -- my pre-race advice for him to push himself harder rang a bit hollow now, though he said he had stopped twice for water, which was new for him -- he had pushed, but within limits.

I think my chief problems were two:
1) I pushed hard all the way up to my crash, and somehow achieved an output I've not managed before; combined with the very late start for this run, I simply hadn't got enough fuel on board (eat more breakfast next year!!)
2) I'd had indigestion all day Sat., and have a dodgy stomach because of a cold (from R, I think; the whole family has it in some form right now). Energy supply mechanism compromised -- 仕方がない、結局。

So, I've got to work on in-race refueling if I want to do tough courses like this at an improving pace. I'd like to go for 6:45 on this course, or 6:40 on a flatter one like Boston. And I need (of course) to keep up my base running, with higher weekly mileage. 15~20 is not enough.

以上